


'tis the damn season

by lightfighter



Series: inhaf verse [2]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, and it's christmas time!, it's the inhaf epilogue!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightfighter/pseuds/lightfighter
Summary: @villanelleisright: and it's christmas, eve! where is your holiday spirit??@true_crime77: ughThe epilogue to it's nice to have a friend. Time to check in on Eve and Villanelle a few months later, just in time for the holidays and the Villanelle Books company Christmas party that everyone is super excited for and in no way dreading, like, for instance, Eve.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Series: inhaf verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079045
Comments: 36
Kudos: 164





	'tis the damn season

**Author's Note:**

> This is the epilogue to it's nice to have a friend. I wouldn't dream of telling you what to do, of course, but this'll probably make more sense if you've already read that.
> 
> Title from the Taylor Swift song, obvi.

**@villanelleisright:** hi eve

 **@villanelleisright:** what are you doing

 **@true_crime77:** Why are you messaging me on here?

**@villanelleisright:** because i am on twitter, and because it reminds me of the good old days, and because i like messaging you, eve, gosh

 **@villanelleisright:** also, i remembered i needed to ask you stuff, and also i miss you

**@true_crime77:** V, we saw each other 6 hours ago

**@villanelleisright:** exactly! 6 hours is a lot!!

 **@villanelleisright:** and we didn’t even have time to make pancakes like i wanted

**@true_crime77:** And why was that again?

**@villanelleisright:** you know you are very distracting when i wake up and you are right there

 **@villanelleisright:** so really, it is your fault. and i don’t remember you complaining 👀

**@true_crime77:**...So what did you need to ask me?

**@villanelleisright:** hahaha 😎

 **@villanelleisright:** just to confirm it was 7pm for this saturday at bill’s, and separately, what movie you want to watch tonight

**@true_crime77:** Yes for 7, Elena and Kenny will be there too

**@villanelleisright:** ok perfect, and yes i love elena she is so funny! benny too i guess

 **@villanelleisright:** also you are responding very quickly for someone who is at work 👀

**@true_crime77:** I can multitask. And aren’t you at work too?

**@villanelleisright:** i can also multitask. i am very talented, eve

 **@villanelleisright** : as you’ve had the opportunity to learn on many occasions now 😏😊🥰

 **@villanelleisright** : also, movie?

 **@villanelleisright:** maybe something christmas themed?? it’s the holidays, after all

**@true_crime77:**...Right

 **@true_crime77:** For the movie, surprise me

**@villanelleisright:** ok 😇

**@true_crime77:** Wait. NOT The Emperor’s New Groove, V. Don’t try to say it’s a Christmas movie somehow. It’s not.

**@villanelleisright:** the emperor is a grinch though.... 

**@villanelleisright:** and it's christmas, eve! where is your holiday spirit??

**@true_crime77:** ugh

 **@true_crime77:** I can’t. We’ve seen that movie eight times. I can literally quote it.

**@villanelleisright:** but babe you love that movie, you’ve seen it eight times!!

 **@villanelleisright:** you can even quote it!

 **@villanelleisright:** (love your kronk btw)

**@true_crime77:** Speaking of, Kronk’s New Groove is off the table as well. The Emperor’s New School too.

 **@true_crime77:** Nothing in the Groove Cinematic Universe

**@villanelleisright:** 😔

**@true_crime77:** Meeting now, talk more later

 **@true_crime77:** Love you

**@villanelleisright:** 🥰

  
  


**

“So then I told him, ‘you look like a bowling ball with a Napoleon complex.’”

Bill bursts into laughter. “You didn’t!”

Villanelle nods from her place across the dining table, deadly serious; Eve watches this little interaction unfold, amused, from her seat next to her. “I did.”

“And how did this captain of industry take being compared to an, er, bowling ball?”

“Oh, he did not like it at _all_ ,” Villanelle replies with an elegant shrug, “But frankly he is an ass and a mediocre businessman who hasn’t managed his own supply chains since the late nineties, so really, who cares?”

Bill considers this for a moment before raising his glass in salute, taking a sip as Elena leans in, chin in her hand, watching Villanelle with fascination. “So what’s it like, really?”

Villanelle raises an eyebrow. “What’s what like?”

“You know,” Elena gestures vaguely. “The...whatever Bill called it. The captain of industry thing. Running a huge company, competing with all the other big guys, dealing with the stress…”

“Hm. There is not stress, as you call it. Not as such. It’s more like…” Villanelle tilts her head thoughtfully for a moment, before a slow smile spreads across her face. “It’s a rush, to be honest. The competition. The _winning_.” Her smile turns the slightest bit wolfish. “It is fun, being the best.”

Elena stares at her for a second, before smiling herself. “ _Cool_.”

Villanelle preens, just a bit; Eve watches her, amused. (And, okay, a little flushed; she tries, as a general rule, not to further inflate Villanelle’s ego, but she also can’t deny that Villanelle’s ease and confidence — and occasional bloodthirst — in her work is, well, a turn on. So sue her, she’s only human.) 

It’s been an...interesting few months, since that day in the park where Villanelle finally found the courage to come clean about her hopelessly confusing web of identities on- and offline and they were able to bridge the gap between Eve/Oksana and @true_crime77/@villanelleisright.

And now they’re dating “IRL,” as Villanelle put it once. (And then promptly had to explain to Eve, which turned into a much longer conversation about internet acronyms and slang in general, which _then_ somehow became a pained critique of Eve’s posting of “boomer memes,” and finally almost ended in disaster when Eve flat out asked if Villanelle was calling her old, Villanelle only saving herself with an impassioned defense of “MILFs and all they stand for” — so, yeah. Interesting.)

Villanelle catches her eye as she talks animatedly with Elena and Kenny, giving her a sweet smile that Eve returns without thinking, her chest suffusing with warmth.

It’s also been a really good few months. 

Villanelle is a really good girlfriend. Maybe this shouldn’t be a surprising statement, but it kind of really is. 

The thing is, she can be sort of...socially awkward. She occasionally makes jokes that don’t land, or are completely contrary to the mood of the conversation, can be brusque or frustratingly obtuse or, at times, perplexingly ignorant of the nuances of a conversation. (This is not to say she’s somehow _dumb_ , of course not; she’s rather terrifyingly brilliant, as it happens. There are just these...gaps, these moments.) 

Eve is well aware of all this, has known it from well before she ever knew Villanelle in real life, and was strictly limited to chatting with a faceless username online. 

But Villanelle is also extremely sweet. And kind. And sincere. And well-intentioned. (To Eve, anyway.) She’s already put Eve to shame with her thoughtfulness and effort, the gifts and the homecooked meals and the unobtrusive check-ins, all serving as an unintentional reminder that Eve really needs to try harder in her relationships, just, like, generally.

And it’s not like Eve is exactly the paragon of normalcy herself: she’s faced enough halting interactions and quizzical brows, usually when she gets a little too into a discussion about murder or says something overly off-color, to know that she also is ever so slightly _off_. 

She can, she knows, be brusque. Unsentimental. Willing to be a dick, when called for (and sometimes when not). She’s even been called _unfeeling_ , once or twice, usually by a boyfriend whose heart she has just broken. 

This is starting to sound a bit familiar.

And what she hasn’t mentioned is that she, more often than not, finds Villanelle’s random remarks entertaining, her inappropriately-timed jokes funnier than she probably should. And even when Villanelle _is_ being annoying, or obtuse, or just a pain in Eve’s ass, she somehow manages to be far more endearing than she has any right to be. 

...Okay, fine. So maybe Eve’s in deep, and they’re more alike than she's willing to admit, even to herself, and she should just consider the possibility that they’re made for each other, or something.

(She instantly mentally cringes at the unbearable sappiness of this sentiment, and moves on.)

A burst of laughter draws her from her thoughts for a moment, and she sees Elena and Bill practically doubled over, Kenny a delicate shade of pink, as Villanelle smugly smirks.

That’s another thing. She’s almost annoyingly good with Eve’s friends. Elena and Bill both find her hilarious, despite their early misgivings at Eve’s apparently deeply questionable life choices (Elena memorably asked once if Villanelle had “Stockholm syndromed” her), but after giving her an initial cold shoulder, have found themselves won over almost unwittingly by the same off-color humor that they themselves employ on a regular basis; her ability to unflappably answer all of their questions about her experience and motivations in business without offense helps too, Eve is sure. 

And now they all hang out. Poor Kenny has never been so red so often, and at this point she’s just waiting for the day Villanelle and Elena hang out without her. 

So, yeah. It’s good. They’re good. Eve is...happy, she thinks, and isn’t that a trip? 

Sure, sometimes there’s the odd awkward reminder of some of the less cheery moments in their history; the occasionally jarring reality of Villanelle’s insane wealth, or her position as an executive officer of the company that hastened the demise of Eve’s business, or, god help Eve, her startlingly present family. (Okay, Irina isn’t that bad, and in fact is rather amusing, especially when attempting to hit on Eve, but Konstantin...yeah. The less they see of each other, probably the better.) 

Eve made the choice to forgive Villanelle, to be with her, knowing all those things, and by and large has found ways to be okay with them, more or less, but that doesn’t mean something can’t occasionally sting.

But it’s good, still. They’re figuring out the realities of Villanelle’s often demanding schedule, her travel obligations, Eve’s own frequent tight deadlines, and so far, they’re making it work. 

It’s kind of nice.

(Alright, maybe the movie nights — Villanelle’s strange, specific obsession with cartoon movies notwithstanding — and the lazy mornings in bed and ridiculously good sex help, too.)

Villanelle breaks her thoughts as she reaches under the table and takes her hand, resting their clasped hands atop her thigh and giving Eve another smile. “You okay?”

Eve blinks, returns the smile, feeling herself soften.

Okay, maybe it’s more than kind of nice.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

Villanelle quirks a brow, but before she can say anything Elena cuts in, grinning. “Like we’d expect anything else, Eve. Anyway, Villanelle was just telling us about the Christmas party you two are going to — sounds _very_ posh. I’m wildly jealous, of course.”

Eve frowns, casting a confused glance at Villanelle. “Um, Christmas party?”

“Uh, yeah, hello,” Elena says impatiently. “The Villanelle Books corporate party, at the Savoy, no less, thank you, _very_ swank—”

But Eve is no longer listening, turning her attention entirely to Villanelle — who looks as if she’s belatedly realizing something not particularly pleasant. “Um, actually, Elena—”

“I mean, if _I_ had a party to go to at the Savoy, with an open bar, it would be absolutely amazing, but—”

“Elena—”

“Would really spread some Christmas cheer, I think—”

“I hadn’t actually mentioned the party to Eve, yet, Elena.” Her hand is tight on Eve’s.

Elena finally presses her lips together, and Villanelle turns to Eve. “Um, yes. The company is having a Christmas party, and I thought we could, um...go.” She pauses, then adds, a tad unnecessarily, “Together.”

Eve stares at her for a moment. Dealing with the knowledge of who Villanelle is and what she does and what her company has indirectly done to Eve is one thing; going to the company’s goddamn _Christmas party_ , where the rest of the C-suite and, ugh, Konstantin will be toasting their banner year, feels quite another. Like the final victory cigar on a pile of victory cigars, all lit from the smoldering ruins of Eve’s shop and a hundred like it. 

And Villanelle wants them to go. Together.

Suddenly, just for a moment, all the feelings that coursed through Eve, when the Villanelle Books store opened and hers closed, barely months apart, surge back. The bitterness, the anger, the disgust, the defeat.

Ugh.

She gently pulls her hand from Villanelle’s, needing some space and to push her hair behind her ears in a bid for time.

But Villanelle is looking at her pleadingly now, and wow, this is _really_ not the venue for this, with Bill and Elena and Kenny watching them, an awkward silence settling over the table. So Eve just clears her throat, forces a smile, and says, “Yeah, sounds fun.”

Villanelle, of course, is not remotely convinced, leaning in and saying lowly, her voice urgent, “Eve, this isn’t how I was going to ask you, are you sure—”

“It’s fine, V,” Eve interrupts, “Really.” She smiles again, willing it to look more real, before tilting her head mischievously at Elena. “But I think you might need to get an invite for Elena or risk having some gatecrashers on your hands.”

Elena laughs, nodding vigorously, and the tension breaks, everyone talking at once. Eve joins in, but feels Villanelle’s eyes on her throughout the rest of the evening, and tries to push those resurgent feelings of disquiet from her mind.

**

 **[(Villanelle) Oksana Astankova]** eve

 **[Villanelle]** i wanted to talk to you about the christmas party

 **[Villanelle]** i know that you said it was fine, both at the dinner and after, but i just need to say it again — i get that you might be uncomfortable about going. please know that if you’d rather not it’s really ok

 **[Villanelle]** i only thought about it because i thought it might be a nice thing for us to go together so my colleagues and other people i know can meet you. i want everyone to meet you and know that we’re together, i guess

 **[Villanelle]** which sounds very lame now that i’ve typed it out

 **[Villanelle]** but it’s just that i love you and want everyone i know to meet you and know that

**[Eve Park]** V, it’s okay. Seriously. 

**[Eve]** Maybe I felt a little uncomfortable at the idea initially but I’m fine now. The company is a big part of your life and I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep it from me. We shouldn’t keep parts of our lives from each other if we don’t need to, right?

 **[Eve]** Also, you’re lame, but you’re kind of cute too. Maybe. Just a little

**[Villanelle]** i can accept that 

**[Villanelle]** and not nearly as much as you 🥰

 **[Villanelle]** are you sure you’re okay with it?

**[Eve]** V. Yes. 100%. It’ll be fun!

**

Eve is definitely not sure she’s okay with this and even less so that it’ll be fun.

And yet, here she is. 

The thing is, she meant what she said. Villanelle is the vice president of Villanelle Books. Will likely take it over in the not too distant future, once Konstantin finally gives it up or his heart does it for him. It’s not going away, and more importantly, Eve wouldn’t expect it to. Outside of her own feelings and experience, she knows how important the company is to Villanelle, what it means to her, how much of her life she’s poured into it. 

She cares about Villanelle, and Villanelle cares about the company. 

So really, the sooner she can get her emotions to catch up to the logical side of her brain, get over the hang ups that continue to linger, the better for all of them.

(And this is usually about where the less logical side of her brain provides a painful reminder of Murder by the Book, and how that was _her_ life’s work. It’s great.)

The irony is, it really doesn’t occupy every other thought like it once did. She chose Villanelle, at the end of the day, even with all her ridiculous shenanigans, and has even achieved some amount of peace in that. But turns out you can choose someone and still be mad at them sometimes.

And she’s definitely overthinking all of this, as per usual. This is absurd. It’s a _Christmas_ _party_ , for god’s sake, not exactly the trials at Nuremberg.

And maybe Eve just needs to remember that the Villanelle who sort of indirectly fucked her over once and leads this massive corporation with damaging market effects is the same Villanelle who likes lying in her arms in bed on Saturdays while Eve strokes her hair, and cooks for her and encourages her to eat more healthily and makes her laugh and really, really loves silly movies. 

So. Christmas party. Villanelle Books. Konstantin. (Ugh.) Open bar?

...Eve supposes she should find a dress.

  
  


**

 **[Bill Pargrave]** Found something acceptable?

**[Eve Park]** Kill me. Yes.

**[Bill]** Excellent

 **[Bill]** Don’t suppose I need to tell you to not punch Konstantin Vasiliev in the mouth?

**[Eve]** You might need to. 

**[Bill]** Please be good

**[Eve]** No promises

**[Bill]** I’ll wait for the headlines then

 **[Bill]** You know it’s okay to have fun there, right? 

**[Bill]** No one will blame you if you do

**[Eve]** Yeah, yeah. Are you my life coach now or something?

**[Bill]** It’s Christmas, Eve! No one likes a Grinch!

**[Eve]** oh, fuck off

**

“Oh my god, what is the _budget_ for this thing?”

Villanelle laughs. “You don’t want to know.”

“...You’re probably right.”

To the surprise of no one, the Villanelle Books company Christmas party is swank as shit. 

There’s probably...hundreds of people milling around in dinner attire, waistcoated servers circulating through the ballroom with hors d’oeuvres, light music playing from somewhere and tasteful lights and Christmas decorations throughout. Villanelle herself looks almost annoyingly hot in the elegant black suit she’s wearing, and Eve is relieved she went to the effort to find the sleek two-tone satin dress she’s wearing; the way Villanelle paused when she first saw Eve in it makes it even more worth it.

It’s nice. Really nice. Eve’s teeth are set on edge almost instantly. Victory cigar party has never felt more apropos. 

“Do you like it?”

And Villanelle is looking at her now, smiling, looking so damn hopeful that Eve sighs, and attempts to get over herself. “Yeah, V. It’s nice.”

Villanelle looks so happy at this simple statement that Eve feels like an ass for having this much of a struggle about it in the first place. “I’m glad you think so. I terrorized the event team enough that it better be.”

Of course she did. Eve smiles, more genuinely. “I’d expect nothing less — how much did you hover over the VB store again?”

“Hey!” Villanelle draws back in mock affront. “Eve, anything that needs to be done correctly must be done by oneself, you know this.” 

“Yeah yeah, we get it, vice prez, you know business,” Eve replies, rolling her eyes at her.

Villanelle just grins, stepping close to her and taking her hand, squeezing it once. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Eve shrugs. “Eh, I wasn’t sure you’d be able to get a date otherwise, so...”

“You are so annoying,” Villanelle says, rolling her eyes, but her smile remains, and she tugs Eve to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips for a brief moment. “Really. I know it wasn’t the easiest thing for you to come. I appreciate it.”

Eve smiles, placing a hand to her cheek, but before she can say anything, a new voice cuts in. “Wow, you two are _gross_.”

It’s almost comical how fast Villanelle’s face drops, and she takes a step back, already scowling as she turns to the interloper. “Why are you _everywhere_?”

Irina scowls right back, though she looks a tad amused as well. “My father runs this company, Oksana. You know you have me to thank for your relationship, right?” She turns to Eve, shifting seamlessly to a smile while Villanelle sputters. “Hi, Eve. You look really nice.”

Eve stifles a look of amusement with effort, just saying, “Thanks, Irina.”

“How are _you_ to thank, exactly?” Villanelle finally gets out, looking deeply annoyed.

Irina shifts back to a scowl without a hitch. “Um, who did Eve have to text to make sure you wouldn’t flake at the last second? Who texted Eve from your phone and braved attempted bodily harm in the process?”

Villanelle glares darkly for a second before looking away, clearly not planning to give in on the matter; Irina’s involvement in her confession is still too much for her to fully accept, let alone freely discuss.

Eve fills in the sullen silence, pretty sure she’s just about to laugh. “Yes, you were very helpful. We both appreciate it.”

Irina preens, looking so like her cousin in that moment that Eve finally does laugh, Villanelle perking up at the sound, forgetting her brief moment of sulkiness enough to add, “Yes, yes, Irina, your nosiness and terrifying overinvolvement in my life finally served some good, it’s a miracle for us all.”

Irina puffs up once more, and finally, tiring of the constant verbal (and sometimes physical) cage match between the cousins, who despite their age difference manage to squabble like they’re both seven, Eve speaks up. “Are you having a good time, Irina?”

Irina deflates, shrugging moodily. “Eh, it is mostly Dad’s boring business associates and all the VB employees here in London. I bring down the average age by like fifteen years.” She tilts her head for a second in thought. “Oh yeah, Eve, I think I saw that guy who used to work in your shop, until...uh…anyway, who works for us now.”

“Hugo?” Eve glosses over the momentary awkwardness, though Villanelle’s hand, back in hers, tightens for a second.

“I guess? He was at the bar.” 

“Of course he was.” Eve turns to Villanelle. “Buy me a drink?”

It’s almost sad how easily they find Hugo, who, sure enough, is hovering around the bar, his tie already a bit loose, a glass in hand. He lights up at the sight of his former boss. “Eve!”

“Hey, Hugo.”

“Eve, I really miss the shop and the pizza you’d get for us and all, but I’ve got to say, there’s something to be said for company parties with open bars and unlimited budgets—” He seems to notice Villanelle for the first time, stopping short and waving a hand sheepishly. “Uh, hi, boss. Thanks?”

Villanelle stares, unimpressed. “Hello, Hugo. Are you done with those reports I asked for?”

“Reports—” he clears his throat. “Uh...yes, the reports, the reports that you asked for and that I definitely remember and know what you’re talking about and, um, did, did so hard—”

“Hugo.” Villanelle interrupts. “I’m kidding. There are no reports.”

“Oh!” He stares before breaking into a relieved laugh. “Thank god. I see why you like her, Eve.”

“Elaborate on that.” Villanelle reverts to utter deadpan without a hitch.

He blinks at both their faces — Eve trying to hide her smirk — before stammering. “Uh— I mean— you’re obviously very— um—”

Villanelle leans away from Eve’s pinch to her side, and finally cracks a smile. “Oh, stop trying, Hugo. You are too easy. Enjoy the party.” She nods to him, before wading into the crowd around the bar to get their drinks, the people around her magically melting away as they realize their boss’ boss’ boss is half a foot away from them. 

He heaves a sigh once she’s gone. “Well, that was terrifying. I don’t know how you do it, Eve.” 

“Well, she’s not _my_ boss, for one thing.”

He leers at her, but before he can say anything idiotic Eve’s already rolling her eyes. “Don’t even think about it.” She shoots him a glare. “And you better miss those pizzas, you ass, those came straight out of my very limited pocket.”

“I do!” He protests, holding up his hands. “Really. The shop was great, Eve, we had a lot of fun. It’s just...well, we’re both here now, aren’t we, it turned out okay in the end? So we may as well enjoy all the perks and free shit?”

She rolls her eyes again at this utterly Hugo sentiment, but something about it gives her pause. _May as well enjoy it._

It really could be that simple, right? She’s been called a tiresome thinkbucket before, after all; maybe she just needs to chill the fuck out and enjoy this party, nevermind that it’s being actively funded by the slow death of an entire industry— 

Ugh. This might be harder than she thought.

“I get it, you know.”

She blinks. Hugo is looking at her, usual smirk replaced with a more serious look. “It’s weird, right? Just a few months ago we were fighting the power, or whatever. It’s shit how it all ended; I miss the shop too. But…” he hesitates, only going on at her encouraging nod. “I don’t actually hate working here. It’s kind of a cool company? I’m getting to work on interesting problems, I guess. Oksana’s not my direct boss, but I see her in meetings sometimes, and...she’s good at what she does. She’s really good.”

Eve smiles. “So I’ve heard. And that’s great, Hugo. Seriously. I wanted all three of you to land on your feet. I’m glad you’re liking what you’re doing.”

He clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. “So...you’re not mad at me, or anything? For going to the dark side?”

She has to laugh. “Nah. Well, I mean, Elena and I talked shit for a bit—” he looks annoyed at the mention of his erstwhile nemesis, “—but it’s fine, I’ll live.”

Hugo smiles, looking more relaxed now. “Glad to hear it. You’re alright, Eve, you know that?”

“Now, that’s not even a question.” 

They turn to see Villanelle returned, flutes of champagne in hand, one eyebrow arched questioningly at Hugo; Eve just smiles and takes her glass. Before Villanelle can inquire further into their conversation, as she seems to want to, she’s greeted by a few other partygoes, turning away to greet them.

Hugo takes the moment to raise his glass to Eve, his smile sincere. “To Murder by the Book, and the good times we had there.”

Eve can only raise her glass back, before taking a long sip; her throat suddenly feels tight.

A gentle arm grasps her elbow, and she looks to see Villanelle. “Sorry about that — I was thinking we could circulate a little now, if you’d like? There’s some people I’d like you to meet.”

“Lead on.”

They meet what feels like a billion of Villanelle’s colleagues and acquaintances; for someone who, by her own admission, doesn’t really have friends, she sure knows a ton of people. Eve supposes that’s just the reality for someone as high-profile as her girlfriend. 

And it’s not...terrible, really. Everyone is courteous and civil, some obviously intrigued by the company’s vice president finally showing up to an event with a date, and then actually introducing that date as her girlfriend. It’s clearly creating some buzz, but no one is aggressively annoying, probably because of the way Villanelle looms whenever needed. 

It’s almost kind of cute, actually, how clearly thrilled Villanelle is to be able to have her by her side, introducing her into her life. Eve softens a bit, despite the unending small talk; it’s hard not to, when Villanelle is clearly as happy as she is, and clearly equally anxious that Eve feel the same, with how often she looks over at Eve, smiling questioningly until Eve smiles back.

Eve just can’t help wish that the context was different. But the unfortunate parts of their past bleed into their present, and Eve will just have to figure out how to keep dealing.

She sees a few of her Manderley colleagues here and there, and others from other publishing outfits, which is perhaps not so surprising; it’s very like Konstantin to make sure as much of London’s larger publishing industry as is useful is extended an invite — always good to build contacts and goodwill for whatever might come, right? But this is a bitter thought, and she forces it down with another swallow of champagne. 

Not five minutes later, Eve wishes she never had the thought at all; the thought of Konstantin finally seems to have summoned him, in all his annoying, portly, white-bearded, smarmily grinning glory. “Is that my niece?”

Villanelle steps forward to accept his half-hug as he approaches. “Hello, Konstantin.”

“You’ve done a very good job with this party, Villanelle, everyone is impressed.”

Villanelle shrugs. “Of course.”

He leans to see Eve besides her, clenching her glass. “Ah, I see you’ve brought Eve.”

Eve’s grip tightens that much more. Breaking it over his head is bad form, Eve, you don’t want an assault charge, Eve…

Villanelle’s voice cools just a bit, a hand slipping down to take Eve’s. “Yes, Konstantin. She’s my girlfriend. Obviously I brought her.”

He raises his hands in defense. “Of course! I was just stating facts. Hello Eve, it is nice to see you.”

“Konstantin.” Eve’s tone practically freezes the air around them, but the man just smiles. 

“I hope you’re having a good time?”

“Yes. Villanelle did a lovely job with the event.”

Being civil is the worst. But the appreciative glance Villanelle sends her makes her glad she said it, just the same.

“Of course,” Konstantin replies, nodding. “And all is well at Manderley, I hope?”

Eve musters a nod, not trusting herself to open her mouth, lest she calls him a dickswab or something even more dire.

“Well, look, I’m very glad you are here with us, you are more than welcome. It’s Christmas, and almost a new year, after all, time to celebrate new beginnings and letting go of the old.”

Eve looks sharply at him — what is _that_ supposed to mean, exactly? He just looks at her, smiling neutrally, eyes blank. Not for the first time, she wonders what he thinks of his niece’s dating choices, on top of everything else. He’s been nothing but civil every time they’ve met, but something about him just gets Eve’s back up. Logically, she knows he’s done nothing Villanelle hasn’t, in terms of the business, but there’s just something about him…

Frankly, she can’t stand him.

Villanelle can be ruthless, but Eve knows she’s not devoid of empathy. Far from it. She likes to pretend she doesn’t feel anything, but Eve’s seen through her more times she can count. 

Konstantin on the other hand...she’s heard him described as a shark, and it’s apt. His eyes are so often devoid of anything beyond self-preservation; Eve wonders if he cares about anything but himself.

And yet. Villanelle loves him. Cares about him. Counts him as family. And Eve knows how that group is so vanishingly small, and Villanelle’s insecurity about this, too; she could never do something that would make Villanelle feel that she has to choose between them, and threaten shrinking that group further. 

Even if she can’t stand him.

So she just smiles tightly. “It’s good to be here. I’m glad I could learn more about Villanelle’s work and meet her colleagues.”

He raises his eyebrows, but just smiles back. “Good. That’s good. You know, in a way, it’s sort of a, ah, hidden blessing that you’ve been able to get out of that shop, and into bigger, better challenges, wouldn’t you agree? You are a very capable person, Eve.” And then he lets out that booming laugh of his, the one that makes Eve want to do something very ill-advised, as if he’s cracked a joke. 

“What—” Villanelle starts, her hand practically cutting off Eve’s circulation, but Eve cuts her off. 

“That’s certainly one way to look at it, Konstantin. It’s nice to know that you can always find that perspective, no matter what happens.” Eve smiles placidly. “It’s a good way to keep your blood pressure in check, right? I know that’s something you’re monitoring.”

They look at each other for a moment, the tension building, before Konstantin gives a mild smile of his own, raising his glass in concession. “Yes. Have a wonderful evening, Eve.”

“You too.”

He wanders off, leaving the two of them standing there, Eve breathing hard now that he’s gone. That _ass_ , that miserable bastard— the fact that he can get under her skin with so little effort is just absurd. 

She becomes aware that Villanelle is watching her worriedly. “Eve, I’m so sorry. I don’t— I don’t know why he’s like that. I’ll talk to him, I’ll make him stop.”

Eve heaves a sigh, feeling abruptly tired. Suddenly she just wants to go home, be that her flat or Villanelle’s, kick off her heels and change into her pajamas and relax far away from all these people and this stupid ballroom and _especially_ Konstantin. But Villanelle is still staring at her, and she’s been so sweet all evening, so she just forces another smile, knowing how important the event is to her. “It’s fine, V. Really. I mean, yeah, he’s kind of a piece of work, but I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

Villanelle shakes her head. “I know that, but you shouldn’t have to. He cannot speak to you like that.”

Eve looks at her, her heart clenching at the desperate sadness on Villanelle’s face. How long is this going to hang over their heads? “Look, we don’t need to talk about this right now. I’m having fun, and there were some other people you wanted me to meet, right? We can stay longer, I don’t mind.”

Villanelle opens her mouth to reply, looking troubled, but they’re interrupted by a duo of guests who clearly know her, greeting her cheerfully; Eve turns to them, smiling politely, already mentally preparing for at least an hour more of this.

But Villanelle surprises her. She greets the guests, but then cuts them off, saying, “Actually, we were just about to head out, so if you’ll excuse us…” And then she’s taking Eve by the hand and steering them away, in the general direction of the exit. 

It takes a few seconds for Eve’s brain to catch up with her feet, and she grinds to a halt. “Wait, what?”

Villanelle grins at her, that playful smile Eve’s seen so often and still makes her feel an annoying number of things. “Wanna get out of here?”

“But your colleagues— and weren’t you giving a speech—?”

Villanelle shrugs, untroubled. “We’ve met enough of them, and I’m getting bored. Konstantin can give the speech, I’ve done that enough, too.”

Eve stares at her, Villanelle staring back, eyebrows raised challengingly. Finally, she gives in, shaking her head with a laugh. “Alright, if you want to sneak out of your own party that bad…”

“You know I am a rebel, Eve!” And with that she’s tugging them to the ballroom’s exit again, only stopping briefly at the closest bar to retrieve an unopened bottle of champagne — to the bartender’s amazement — taking it with a grin.

They end up running out — or as close to running as they can get in their heels — Eve snorting with laughter as Villanelle dramatically holds the lobby door open for her, the doormen at the hotel entrance watching them with bemusement. 

It’s cold outside, and Eve frowns when Villanelle waves away the valet’s hasty offer to bring their car around. “Aren’t we leaving?”

“Yes, but I thought we could walk for a bit. I’ll call the driver to pick us up from wherever.”

“But our coats—”

“I’ll get someone to get them from coat check, Eve, _c’mon_.”

Eve heaves a sigh at her ridiculous pout, but relents with a nod, and then Villanelle’s pulling Eve along, _again_ , though she does pause to shed her suit jacket, draping it over Eve’s bare shoulders.

And then they’re walking along, Eve conscious of the small army of perplexed valets, bellboys, and doormen watching the two crazy ladies go, apparently content to leave their car and coats and other trappings of civilization behind. 

Villanelle waits until they’ve walked a block, Eve just starting to get cold and grumpy and missing her parka. “So…”

“So…”

“Thanks for coming with me.” 

“I had fun.”

“Did you?”

Eve pauses. “Villanelle, look—“

“No, let me. Okay?”

Eve pauses and nods.

“I’m sorry about my uncle. And I— I know this is difficult for you sometimes, not just tonight, but other times too. My work, our history. And I wish I could fix it or make it different, but I can’t.” Villanelle takes a breath. “But I don’t want to exclude you from my life, either. And I know you’re trying, too. You were wonderful tonight, and so beautiful, and I— I just wish we didn’t have these, these reminders, and that I could change things and that none of it happened like it did. Yes, we were able to get past it, but I know that doesn’t mean it never happened, and that things still hurt you. And I’m sorry.”

Eve doesn’t say anything for a moment, their slow aimless stroll down the sidewalk continuing.

Finally: “Yeah, it sucks.”

This is clearly not the sort of reply Villanelle is expecting, and she looks at Eve askance. Eve gives her a small smile, one that is not especially happy. “I mean, it kind of does. And yes, Konstantin can be an ass, and sometimes hearing stuff about your work can salt the wound, or whatever.”

Villanelle ducks her head, staring at the ground as they walk. 

“But…”

Villanelle looks at her, hearing Eve’s tone lighten. Eve shrugs. “I mean, it’s not really fair to only remember the shitty stuff, and nothing else. How we met — in real life, I mean — is insane, and everything that happened after even moreso, but none of it would’ve ever happened if you didn’t decide to open your store a block from mine. We would still be chatting online, and just sort of....wondering, for, like, ever.”

Eve takes her hand. “So, yeah. I’m not fully okay with everything, and you know that, and maybe that’s okay. We’re still together despite it, aren’t we? You know my shitty stuff, I know yours, and...I mean, it’s still been kind of good, right?”

“ _So_ good, Eve,” Villanelle replies, voice intent. “Like, the best.”

Eve smiles. “Then there we are, then. And...maybe we should both try to be a little easier on ourselves. This constant guilt cycle is _exhausting_ , not exactly sustainable and frankly really dumb. I care about you. You care about me. And that's enough for us to work with.” 

Villanelle laughs, giving in. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” She meets Eve’s eyes. “I really love you, you know.”

“I’m always right.” Eve relents with a small smile. “And I love you, too.”

They walk for a bit, Villanelle swinging their clasped hands between them. 

“So…”

Eve glances at Villanelle warily; her tone has gone mischievous.

“I think this calls for a toast.”

Eve sighs; that tone always brings chaos of some variety, and usually she’s more into it than she cares to confess, but: “V, my feet hurt, and it’s freezing, can we just—”

“Eeeve, don’t be a party pooper,” Villanelle interrupts, well accustomed to hearing, and then promptly ignoring, Eve’s naysaying. She lifts the champagne, wiggling her eyebrows. “I mean, I liberated this bottle from the party for a reason. It would be a shame not to open it, don’t you think?”

“Villanelle, come on—”

Villanelle just laughs and ducks into the alley nearest them, uncorking the champagne with a loud pop — Eve ducking despite herself — and holding it up. “To you, Eve.” She takes a long pull from the bottle, meeting Eve’s eyes challengingly.

Eve rolls her eyes after a moment, taking the bottle from her and taking a swig of her own as Villanelle hoots in approval. When she lowers it, Villanelle is still staring at her, and Eve barely pauses to set it down before surging forwards and backing her up against the brick of the building nearest them, hands gripping her shirt collar. 

Eve studies the now wide-eyed woman for a second and mutters, “You are _so_ annoying,” not waiting for Villanelle’s inevitable protest as she presses her lips to hers. 

They kiss for long moments, Eve’s hands still bunched around Villanelle’s collar, Villanelle threading hers into Eve’s hair.

When they finally part, neither moves away, content to stay in each other’s space for a moment.

Villanelle smiles, reaching up to push a loose curl behind Eve's ear. “So...great party, huh?”

Eve snorts. 

“I _really_ like this dress, by the way.”

“I noticed. You look pretty decent yourself.”

It’s Villanelle’s turn to roll her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything, just bringing a hand up to cup Eve’s cheek, her thumb brushing over Eve’s cheekbone, until — her voice becoming the faintest bit shy — “Merry Christmas, Eve.”

Eve softens. “Merry Christmas, V.” She covers Villanelle’s hand with her own.

A beat.

“Can you call the driver now? I can’t feel my feet.”

“Yeah it’s freezing out here. Can we go home and watch a movie?”

“...Yeah. You pick, whatever you want.”

And Villanelle’s delighted smile is worth Eve’s numb feet _and_ the upcoming ninth viewing of The Emperor’s New Groove.

**Author's Note:**

> and they continue to text and DM happily ever after.
> 
> thanks for reading! i have a soft spot for this AU, was nice to dip back in.
> 
> Wishing you all very happy holidays and an even happier new year. 2021, pls, have mercy.
> 
> @lightfighterfic on bird app


End file.
